Category: art

art, New York City, The Journal of Cultural Conversation

The Journal of Cultural Conversation: An interview with Hani, NYC’s Famous Sidewalk Artist

Christa Avampato

A few weeks ago, I was on my way up to Harlem to do some research for an after-school program I’m hoping to launch in January. As I was walking up Broadway, I stopped to admire a painting that had been done of the sidewalk.

It depicted a smiling Barack Obama beside a very pensive Hillary Clinton. Scrawled next to the painting was a URL: http://www.hanisidewalkart.com/. I wrote down the site to look into at a later date.

Two weeks ago I moved into a new apartment, and the day after I moved in there was a large gathering of people in a circle across the street.

I thought for sure someone was hurt, signing autographs, proselytizing, or break-dancing – all common things in New York that draw large sidewalk crowds. None of the above.

There was Hani, painting Michael Jackson on the sidewalk.

This time, I went home immediately and looked up his website. I would have interviewed him right there on the spot, though didn’t want to disturb his creative flow. I emailed him and he wrote back that same evening to say he’d love to be featured on TJCC. His story and work are fascinating and I am enthralled with his art, much of which is showcased on the website. I’m very happy to share his remarkable talent with you. Please click here for the interview.

art, hope, New York City, science, South Africa, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – Hope Grows

Christa Avampato

Today I went to the New Museum of Contemporary Art with my friend, Allan. There’s a South African photography exhibit by David Goldblatt on display there that I wanted to see. On the third floor, the photographs are dire. “Is all of South Africa a desert, Christa?” Allan asked me. In the photos the land has been reduced to rubble, laid barren by years of struggle and negligence. “Where is the hope?” Allan asked.

We then made our way up to the fourth floor where there were a series of before and after photographs. Barren land had regrown some. South Africa seemed a little more green, not teeming with life, though certainly much improved. I felt a small flicker of hope.

I went to South Africa about 2 years ago and though I had a series of unfortunate incidents, I also had a set of really incredible circumstances that endeared me to that country and its people. I’m sure I’ll return some day soon. While there seems to be no hope in the structures of shanty towns that can be found throughout the country, there is a great deal of strength and ambition in the eyes of South Africans. They seem to always be looking up and over, at something brighter and better in the distance.

The handful of before and after photographs got me to thinking about how hope and life can regenerate without any outside influence. The first law of thermodynamics involves the conservation of energy and it states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. In Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, he reveals to us that while the first law of thermodynamics holds true, energy can transform into mass, and vice versa. As I viewed the photos of South Africa, particularly the before and after photos, I thought about Einstein’s theory and how it applies to broader circumstances outside of science.

It seems to me that the re-growth of life, mass, could be due to the fact that energy, hope, cannot be created nor destroyed. It just is, then, now, and always. While it may change forms and go into hiding from time to time, we can be sure that it is always there, available to us if only we have the insight to recognize it.

art, friendship, mistakes, passion

My Year of Hopefulness – Building a World Out of Creativity, Mistakes, and Art

Christa Avampato

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” ~ Howard Thurman

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
~ Scott Adams (Dilbert)

Both of these quotes were provided by my friend, Amanda Hirsch. Amanda is the author of Creative DC, a blog about living a creative life in DC. She found me online while looking for blogs about New York City. After clicking through to my resume, she found that we have just about all the same interests and graduated from the same university, the same year. (It’s a big school so sadly we didn’t meet way back when.)

It’s these online connections to creative, inspiring people that keeps me writing. They make all this effort worthwhile. There are a plethora of interesting, engaging people out there, spread out all over the map. Writing online gives us a way to find each other.

And this brings me to the reason that Amanda’s first quote really got to me. It would be very easy to just look around and see what the world needs, and then go make that. That’s certainly a viable road to entrepreneurship. Trouble is that method doesn’t necessarily get our internal motors running.

Running a business, heck writing a regular blog, takes an incredible amount of dedication and time. There are nights that I have to stay in and write, and I love that. When I’m writing, I don’t feel like I’m missing out on doing something else. I’m passionate about this art form, and have made a conscious decision to become a better writer. That’s going to take time. Point is, I didn’t look around and say “what the world needs is another person to write about creativity.” I’m interested in creativity and writing. They make me come alive – and me coming alive can go a long toward making the world around me a better place to be.

Finally, this point brings me to Amanda’s second quote. There are a lot of times that a whole lot of nonsense flows from my keyboard. The wording is awkward. I can’t turn a phrase properly. I have a tough time translating my thoughts into words that other people understand. I edit as much as I actually write. The creativity piece involves throwing down everything on the page. Forget about beauty and style and grace. Just get the thought down. Editing is the real art – knowing what to keep and what to toss away so that the necessary can speak.

Our world is built around creativity, mistakes, and art. From the buildings we occupy to the streets we walk to the businesses we frequent. These three things are inextricably intertwined. And while the result isn’t perfect, it’s beautiful and unique and interesting – exactly the way the world should be.

art, career, choices, dreams, friendship, goals

My Year of Hopefulness – Finishing what you’ve started

Christa Avampato

“Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.” ~ William James

I have a hard time letting things go. I have to watch movies straight through to the end, no matter how bad they are. I have to finish every book I start. Nothing causes me to lose sleep more than tasks hanging around for me to finish tomorrow; hence my tremendous lack of sleep in a partially packed apartment. Why is it so troublesome to let things lie around undone?

It could be that I’ve read too many stories about people who didn’t quite get to see their dreams realized. It could be that I’ve read that quote from John Lennon “Most people die with the music still in them” once too often. I don’t want to look back and be so far away from something I started that it’s too difficult to pick it up again.

We get to these points in our lives where we must go left or right and it’s very hard to double back once we’ve made a choice. Not impossible, but certainly difficult. I’m there now. A lot of my friends are there now. Maybe this is the dilemma we find in our 30’s. We are making choices now that impact every other choice down the line. We’re deciding who we’re going to become, how we’re going to make use of our talents, how the world around us is going to be different because we passed this way instead of that way.

And while I have a natural instinct of which way to go at this fork in the road, the choice in my heart is a tough one. It’s got some risks baked into it. It’s not the safe route. Some times I think the choice in my heart isn’t even the sane route to take. Then again, when has making the sane, safe choice ever lead me to complete fulfillment?

Today I went to a baby shower for my friend, Alex. One of her college friends made a critical choice to leave behind the business world and pursue her PhD in art history, thanks to Alex’s encouragement. She loved art history early on in college and had given up her dream to work in that field to take the safe business route. Before it was too late, she went back to what she loved.

Every one of her professors told her this choice was ridiculous, that she was truly wasting her life in art history, that she’d never get a job. One of them actually told her that a degree in art history and a quarter wouldn’t even get her a cup of coffee. Now she works in New York and helps corporations and nonprofits build their private art collections. Turns out that a degree in art history has earned her much more than a cup of coffee. It helped her earn a happy life. The rewards of finishing what she started and following her heart.

art, books, dreams, love, relationships

My Year of Hopefulness – The Velveteen Rabbit

Christa Avampato

My friend, Eric, got married this weekend. He is one of my closest friends from business school, someone who got me through many tough assignments and helped keep me sane. We also had a lot of fun together. I’m so happy that he found someone as wonderful as he is and that they’ve started their lives together.

The one reading that he and his new wife, Daphne, had at their wedding is from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. The quote considers the very pertinent question “What does it mean to be real?”

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day…

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes. When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

It is the perfect allegory for starting a relationship with someone that is based on love, and therefore the perfect reading for a wedding. It’s also the perfect thing to consider for our lives in general. Our lives, from beginning to end, are based on the art of becoming.

As we grow older we develop new interests and relationships and dreams. Some we accomplish, others die away without coming to fruition for one reason or another, and still others have yet to be found. The end process of becoming is to be real. Authentically, imperfectly, beautifully an individual who will never be replicated nor replaced.

The process of becoming takes patience, with ourselves and with others. It can’t be rushed. We can’t skip to the end to see how it turns out. We can’t work backwards and engineer our way into the best possible ending. It can only be created forward. There will be unexpected instances that must be folded into the process, some will be welcome changes, strokes of luck and genius, and others may be painful and sad. They all matter and all contribute to the piece of art, the life, we get in the end.

Becoming real is not easy. It takes work and perseverance, compromise and sacrifice. And it requires that we take the long-view, always. There will be moments of great triumph and great loss. Those losses are the risks we take and the price we pay for actively living and participating in the world around us, the risks and price for becoming real. And those triumphs and happy moments, big and small, are what make it all worthwhile.

art, comedy, dreams, television

My Year of Hopefulness – Drop Dead Diva

Christa Avampato

“You are who you wanna be.” ~ Jane on Drop Dead Diva, played by Brooke Elliott

Last night, the show Drop Dead Diva had its premiere on Lifetime. Most pilots are awful. Beyond awful. This one is inspired, funny, smart, and tragic. Best of all, the back story is one of striving and thriving – a great example for all of us.

My friend, Brooke Elliott, is the star of Drop Dead Diva. I met her in 2002 when I joined the touring company of Beauty and the Beast. She is the funniest person I know. Some people tell funny jokes. Some people have crazy stuff that happens to them and their recounts of those crazy events are funny. Brooke is just funny, about everything. I can be in the most horrid mood, and the way she says hello sets me into giggles. It’s a wonderful, rare quality.

Two years ago I moved back to New York after business school and reconnected with Brooke. We had been in touch over email over the years, but hadn’t seen each other regularly since I left Beauty and the Beast in 2003. By 2007, Brooke had left musical theatre and was focusing on crossing over to film and TV work.

Brooke’s story is one of the most hopeful and compelling I know. When she left musical theatre, a lot of people asked her if she was going to get a day job while she pursued TV and film. Her answer was simple, “No, I’m going to book an acting job. I’m an actor.” No frustration, no anger, no naivety. She was going to practice her craft and make a living doing it. That acting job she was going to book is now Drop Dead Diva. And as so many critics have said, “Brooke Elliott is drop dead terrific.”

Her success comes as no surprise to me. It was just a matter of time before Brooke had her own show. With talent, grace, and determination so immense, the world was going to find her sooner or later and give her the credit she so richly deserves. After all, you are who you wanna be. It’s advice we could all stand to hear a little more often.

If you missed the premiere of Drop Dead Diva, catch the replay of the full episode at http://www.mylifetime.com/on-tv/shows/drop-dead-diva/video and tune in to Lifetime on Sundays at 9pm Eastern.

art, child, childhood, photographs, social change

My Year of Hopefulness – Do You See What I See?

Christa Avampato

Today I went over to the U.N. to see a photo that my dear friend, Amy Marsico, worked on. The photo exhibit is entitled Do You See What I See? It captures the thoughts and emotions of displaced children living in refugee camps in Yemen and Namibia. The powerful images and the words of the children reacting to those images ranged from loneliness to hope to intense memories of the experiences they’ve been through in the camps and in their home countries.

The exhibit is the output of work my friend, Amy, and her colleagues did in support of the UNHCR’s Convention of the Rights of the Child. The Convention puts forward that children have the right to actively participate in the decision-making that effects their lives and communities. It has been ratified by nearly every country in the world. The U.S. is one of the few who have not adopted it.

What struck me about the thoughts of the children featured in the photo exhibit is how easy they were to understand. They had all the same concerns we have – being liked, companionship, future opportunity, learning, a desire to be safe. On my way home, I considered how children might see these streets of New York I walk along every day, what they might think as they walked through my life.

I considered how the child I used to be would view the adult I am now. What she’d be happy about and what she’d like to change. She’d want me to be having fun, freely voicing my thoughts, and making a difference. She’d want me to be excited to get up out of bed in the morning and out into the world. And she’d never want me to sit still. Ever.

I like to think that I carry the little child I used to be in my heart and mind as I go through my adult life. I’d like to think that though I’ve grown older, I’ve kept that young, optimistic, idealistic view on life. I’d like to think that what I see now is what I’ve always seen: a world full of opportunity and hope, a world where I can make a difference.

The photo above can be found at: http://www.refugeechild.net/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/090406.jpg

art, creative, creativity, education, Google, kids

My Year of Hopefulness – Doodle 4 Google

Christa Avampato

Google put forward a competition, Doodle 4 Google, for kids K-12 to design the Google logo with the idea of expressing the theme “What I Wish for the World”. The Cooper-Hewitt Museum currently has the finalists of the competition on display. I went to see them today with my friend, Dan. I’m currently working on an after-school program for public school children and knew that this exhibit would help inform the program. After all, the idea is to discover the way kids would like the world to be.


Several themes cropped up frequently in the doodle: environmental conservation – everything from climate change to species protection to green energy. Even the importance of pets! Creativity, acceptance, and education were also prevalent in the doodles. And some were advocating specific causes such as a cure for breast cancer and an end to war.

As I walked the exhibit, I considered what I would wish for the world and how I might depict it to create my own Google Doodle. If I had one wish for the world, I’d want to see the desire to be helpful become the main goal of every person’s life. I like that being helpful is a specific goal that’s open to interpretation depending upon each individual’s talents and interests.

Being helpful could mean volunteering, going into a helpful profession such as medicine, or being a good listener. It can be done in small spurts or over an extended period of time. It usually doesn’t cost anything to be helpful outside of an individual’s time and energy. When one person helps another, both their lives are enriched. You can pay it forward, and every act of helpfulness triggers another similar act.

Best of all, helpfulness naturally causes other positive changes in the world that we need in abundance: more kindness, empathy, and generosity. By being helpful, we become useful and we have a hand in shaping the world to be a bit more the way we’d like it to be. In short, the fastest road to a more hopeful, brighter future may start with the extension of a single helping hand.

The images above was created by Sinceraty Alexander for the Doodle 4 Google conference. Sinceraty’s image was a New York State finalist.
art, simplicity, values

My Year of Hopefulness – Jackson Pollack, Explained

Christa Avampato

I was in DC a few weekends ago and met up with a bunch of friends from business school. One member of the group who is more a classmate than a friend of mine criticized Jackson Pollock and his work, citing that even he could drip a bunch of paint on a canvas. (And this guy doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body!) At the time, I had no words to explain Jackson Pollock, and I was really upset by the guy’s criticism. I like Pollock’s work very much, though must confess I never understood it. I just love the patterns, colors, and textures of it.

As luck, and karma, would have it, today I found out why I love Jackson Pollock. If only I had read Matthew May’s book In Pursuit of Elegance before my DC trip! May explains the genius of Pollock’s work, thanks to the research of Richard Taylor, a physicist from Australia.

After studying Pollock’s work in connection to his physics research, Taylor recognized that Pollack built his paintings based upon fractals: “repetitive patterns nested within each other that remain the same at differing scales of magnification…[fractals] are simple rules…that create beautifully organized and highly complex designs [that are pleasing to the eye].” Trouble is Pollock died in 1956 and fractals weren’t discovered until 1975. Pollack lived and died ahead of his time, precisely 19 years ahead of his time.

I have been thinking about fractals all evening, their importance to physics, to Pollock, and to every day life. In a very real sense, our core values are fractals: repeating patterns that remain constant, even when examined up close. We don’t abandon them at our front door or in certain company. They stay with us and play themselves out in every area of our lives. From those simple values (aka, simple personal rules) – honesty, kindness, loyalty – we build complex, intricate relationships that form the very foundation from which all our life experiences grow. Fractals make art, and life, appealing to the eye, the mind, and the heart.

Lest we think that life is all about politics and facades and putting on airs – it is not. Life is about getting down to the simple matter of what matters to us. At the end of the day, what really counts? What do we want to be known for? What are the constants that underlie who we are, under all circumstances? It’s those things, those constant, consistent patterns, and their intersections that help us build beautiful lives.

The image above is of Blue Poles by Jackson Pollock. It recently sold for $40M.

art, books, music, silence, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – It’s what’s missing that counts

Christa Avampato

Today I started reading In Pursuit of Elegance by Matthew May. May’s premise in the book is that what’s not there – in a product, a service, a piece of art, a book – often trumps what is. 12 pages in and I am completely hooked. It’s about what we choose not to do that shapes as our lives as much as what’s on our to-do list. It’s about editing, making decisions, and taking away the unnecessary so that the necessary can shine.

May quotes a lot of sources, referencing everything from ancient Chinese proverbs to pop culture. It never feels contrived, forced, or overly ambitious. He is making connections between seemingly disparate ideas, and teaching us how to live a more valuable, satisfying life in the process.

Early on, May quotes Jim Collins’s now infamous essay that he wrote for USA Today on the subject of “stop-doing.” Collins says, “A great piece of art is composed not just of what is in the final piece, but equally what is not. It is the discipline to discard what does not fit – to cut out what might have already cost days or even years of effort – that distinguishes the truly exceptional artist and marks the ideal piece of work, be it a symphony, a novel, a painting, a company, or most important of all, a life.”

It’s these last two words that got me. I understand editing a novel, a piece of music, a company. We spend a lot of time, maybe most of our time, stuffing our lives full of experience, people, places, and things. We do more and more and more to the point that we can’t remember what we did 10 minutes ago. So what if we did and said less and less and less. What would our lives look like then? What if we only put the precious time we have with one another toward things that passionately, ardently interest us? How would we be different, and how would the world around us be different? Could we actually have a greater positive impact by focusing on the precious few things that really matter to us rather than the mediocre many?

Jazz great John McLaughlin said, “All the music that was ever heard came from the inner silence in every musician.” I extend that quote to say that every human accomplishment has come to be because someone took something from their inner being, from their own personal silence, and gave it to the world. It’s really the only work we ever have to do: strip away the fascades, the excess, what we can live without so that we can know and nurture the handful of things that really count.